


Bathroom Business

by Zelos



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: First Meetings, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 17:41:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1656887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zelos/pseuds/Zelos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I actually met Tobias when he had his head in a toilet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bathroom Business

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JustAnotherGhostwriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherGhostwriter/gifts).



FLUUUUSH!!

A toilet flushing. Okay. Normal.

Laughter and guffaws? Loud ones? Not normal. Who found bathroom business _that_ funny? Except for Marco, maybe. But those were two voices (neither of them Marco’s), and somehow Jake didn’t think the universe had sunk so low to produce two more guys with Marco’s absurd sense of humour.

Jake paused, eyeing the bathroom door.

FLUUUUUUUUUSH!

A yelp from a third voice was suddenly muffled by the clang of the warning bell.

Frowning, Jake shouldered his way into the boys’ bathroom.

Two guys—Ed and Matt, Jake remembered—were crowded into a wide-open stall. Ed was holding someone up by their legs, the boy’s shoes still kicking the air. Matt was holding the person’s head down into—into—

FLUUUUUUUUUUUSH!

“Hey!” Jake snapped angrily. “Leave him alone.”

Ed and Matt looked up. The boy probably tried to look up too, judging by a startled gurgling sound.

Matt elbowed their victim in the stomach before turning to Jake. “Or what?”

Jake stood his ground. Ed was slightly bigger than he was, Matt slightly smaller. Picking a fistfight would end poorly.

Jake wasn’t planning on fighting.

“Or _I’ll_ start yelling,” Jake said steadily. “Mr. Campbell’s just across the hall.”

Ed and Matt exchanged a look, hesitating. The second bell clanged above them, making them all wince. Hands over his ears, Jake shouldered his way into the stall’s doorway, still glaring.

Ed’s eyes flicked between Jake and the door. Then, without warning, he dropped the boy and barrelled out of the stall, knocking Jake backwards into the tile wall.

“Hey, wait!” Matt tore out after his friend. Both were out the door before Jake could make good on his threat.

“Jerks,” Jake muttered darkly under his breath as he hurried towards the stall. The blond boy was sitting up, his nose bleeding profusely from where it smashed into the toilet seat when Ed dropped him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” The boy pulled himself up with the toilet paper dispenser, grabbing a handful of TP on the way for his nose. He staggered out, his steps a little wobbly. “Thanks.”

Out in the light, Jake got his first proper look at the boy: looked about his age, Marco’s height or a little taller. Blond hair hung in stringy strands around his face, dripping toilet water onto his shirt. And speaking of blond hair, there were…bits…stuck in his hair, stark against the lighter strands.

Ed and Matt probably picked the dirtiest toilet they could find. _Jerks_.

“I’m Tobias,” the boy said. He looked like he was about to offer a hand, then realized his state and shuffled, shame-faced, towards the sink instead.

“I’m Jake.” Jake followed him to the sink, keeping a safe distance. “Um, Tobias? Your hair…”

Tobias caught a glance in one of the mirrors and went beet-red.

Jake checked his watch and did a quick mental calculation. “C’mon, let’s head to the gym. Swim team doesn’t have practice today, you can use the showers.”

They were silent as they headed for the gym. Jake kept a wide berth from Tobias, who was still dripping toilet water everywhere. He kept wiping at his face with the fistful of toilet paper he’d gotten, but as soon as one rivet got wiped away, another took its place.

“Sorry for making you late,” Tobias finally mumbled, eyes on his shoes.

“Free period,” Jake lied. Truth was, he just didn’t want to leave the guy alone in case Ed and Matt came back.

From Tobias’ sideways glance, he knew it too.

Tobias went straight to the showers. Jake tasked himself with getting Tobias’ gym clothes from his locker since he has cleaner hands. Getting to class on time was a lost cause anyway, so he hung around for Tobias to finish. Besides, Ed and Matt might still come back.

Tobias came out about fifteen minutes later, changed and skin scrubbed raw, his blond hair dripping a much cleaner water. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Is your shirt…?” Jake eyed the wad of orange cotton clenched tightly in one fist.

“I washed it out. Couldn’t get the blood out though. I even washed it on the hottest water.” Tobias stared at the sodden shirt again, looking vaguely guilty, like it was his fault he bled all over his shirt.

Jake shrugged. He has never been any good with laundry. “Maybe I’ll ask my brother if he has any ideas.” Speaking of blood, Jake was now noticing the purpling on Tobias’ face. “Do you need to see the nurse?”

Tobias flushed again, making the purpling bruise stand out starkly against his face. “No. I’m good, really. Um…thanks, again. I’ll see you around, Jake.”

“No problem,” but Tobias was halfway across the room before the words had gotten out of Jake’s mouth. He wasn’t even sure if Tobias heard him. Some people hated pity—he’d know. Jake has seen that same expression on Marco’s face at the slightest mention of his mom.

With a sigh, Jake ambled out of the locker room, already thinking of things to bribe Rachel with in exchange for her notes.

 

“Hey, Tom? What washes blood out of clothes?”

Tom looked up from his newspaper and swallowed his mouthful of sandwich. “Water and soap? Why do you ask? You hurt yourself, Midget?”

“No, not me.” Jake flopped down in the seat across from his brother with a bowl of cereal. “Guy from school. Nosebleed all over his shirt. Scrubbed it with soap and hot water and everything and nothing budged. I figured you might know more.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “Not _hot_ water, Midget— _cold_ water. Hot water sets the blood in the fabric.”

Oh. “How was I supposed to know that?”

“Hard-won experience,” Tom advised loftily. “You get your share of scrapes and bruises in sports. I dunno what to do about set-in blood, though.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “Maybe a girl would know.”

“Why would a girl…” Jake trailed off and went firetruck red. “ _TOM!_ ”

“Okay, okay, I was just kidding!” Tom ducked and avoided a cereal flake Jake threw at him. “Maybe we’ll ask Mom?”


End file.
